Architecture is our way of comprehending and dealing with the terrifying march of time. As mortal beings, we feebly approach the realm of the immortal through making public our private selves, in vain hopes that our metaphysical identities as persons outlive our physical shells, in vain hopes that the scars we leave behind on this earth, though in time it will inevitable weather and return to dust, will live on in the public memory. The spa is once a private place of contemplation and a public forum of dialogue and action–the perfect urban theater to host the diverse comedies and tragedies of urban life to captivate the attention of the audience members who live near its vicinity.

In need of spiritual uplifting, the presbyters of Goldman Sachs, under the blessings and auspices of Extell, have decreed this lowly site of urban public bath-house next to the Shrine Church of St. Anthony of Padua as worthy grounds for the erection of New Jerusalem–a 20-storey Bob Stern condo clad with Negev-quarried limestone, fitted inside with a climate-controlled wine cellar in which to store the most precious elements of the holy eucharist to be sipped with a side of kobe steak, as the presbyters watch in dismay the filth below that are the commoners and the plebeians who unfortunately still reside with them in this increasingly gentrifying neighborhood.